


Intervention

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-03
Updated: 2009-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trunks was bullied in school and resorted to violence. Vegeta approves, Bulma does not, and even ChiChi gets involved. You know what this means? Our favorite prince is going to get royally OWNED, that's what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intervention

Bulma considered herself a reasonable woman with reasonable expectations from her family. Her husband Vegeta, for instance, was not to allowed blow up a single thing in her home, or else he would endure a painful, sexless week. To add insult to injury, she would also deactivate the gravity room. Sex free and fight free, those were real ways to lay boredom on a Saiyan hard. ChiChi's often asked her for husband-whipping tips, but Goku wasn't the angry, destructive type, so Bulma had nothing for her.

Aside from that Vegeta was free to do what he damn well pleased, even corrupt her Trunks with all that Saiyan warrior garbage that she once wanted nothing to do with. Being married to an alien, albeit a hot alien was one decision she made that she could never figure out for the life of her. Her little bundle of joy Trunks was well worth it, though. He was smart, and handsome, and good at everything that he did. That was a Brief trait all right. Although, Trunks did inherit one thing that made her question her own child naming abilities for the first time ever.

She knew the kids at school laughed at him for having a funny name. Now, Brief was a very famous name for a reason. Her great-grandfather Hanez Brief was the man to invent the first kind of washing machine that could power wash any kind of stain imaginable out of any article of clothing, most especially undies. He got the most praise for the clean undies, so since then it had been customary to name each member of the Brief family after an article of underclothes. That didn't exactly work wonders on first impressions, but that didn't matter. Nothing that trivial matters when you're of the rich and beautiful category.

Or so Bulma thought, but when she and Vegeta were called in to see the principal about some "violent crime" Trunks had committed on a few kids in the lunch room, she had been worried sick. After all, he packed a serious wallop for a seven-year-old, given that he was the son of a Saiyan and all. Since Vegeta had unlocked the key to becoming Super Saiyan years ago, he was trying to get Trunks to ascend as well. With all that power, who knew what kind of damage that kid could cause?

After getting called in Bulma considered grounding Trunks from training indefinitely. Not letting him watch TV for a week wasn't going to cut it. He was very cute and sweet, the better half of him at least. The other half he got from his father.

"Where exactly are you dragging us, Bulma?" grumbled Vegeta, sunshine and kittens as always. He looked pissed enough to take out an entire country with his glare and twitch of an eyebrow. Frankly, she wouldn't put it past him to do just that. After all, he was on such a tight schedule, beating up invisible enemies, and claiming his shit don't stink all about the house. Sparing a bit of time to get involved in Trunks's life (the one outside of training) was such a tragedy. Bulma would cry a single woeful tear for him, but she happened to be on a tight schedule as well. She had a son to kill when she got through with this.

"Didn't you hear a word I said when I got off the phone with Mr. Shoryu?" said Bulma, tapping her nails against the steering wheel as if that would make it go any faster. She hated flying with Vegeta, but this was a public trip, thus she could not allow him to fly outside of the aircraft. Having a wide selection of planes to ride to school by made the Brief family unique enough, but a former evil alien dad that could fly at lightning speed was a bit too much, even for her family. Not to mention a pigeon would probably poo on his One Nice Shirt.

"Yes, it was something to the affect of 'Put on your One Nice Shirt, we're leaving'," said Vegeta, in the worst Bulma-imitation since, well, since ever. And he thought he was good at everything. "Very informative. Pardon my ignorance."

"I knew I should have left you home! I just knew it." Bulma proceeded to grumble from there, half-expecting Vegeta to up and leave her there to face their son's problem alone. Thankfully, he just stayed and grumbled with her, one of the few things the two of them shared as a pair. It was so romantic that Bulma could puke, really.

In any case, she could see the school her son attended over the mountains. It was quite a ways from West City by car, but by Capsule Corp. plane it was just enough time for Trunks to get his homework done on the way home. Bulma always admired what a good boy he was, despite having such a crude, sarcastic, jerk of a father. Whatever could have happened to him? Why was her boy suddenly a delinquent? She wanted to prove to ChiChi that fighting and school really could go hand-in-hand, without being pushy and crazy about studies. What went wrong?

"We're just about there," said Bulma. She rang up the school, informing them that the door on the roof had better be open by the time they got there. It was too cold out, and she didn't want that air nipping at her skin for too long. She was never too old to put an effort into preserving her youthful beauty. Nope, no daughter of Dr. Brief was made to be bitten by the cold, which was why she still couldn't figure out what she saw in Vegeta all those years ago. The man couldn't be any colder if he locked himself in a freezer.

"Be on your best behavior, please. For me?" she pleaded. It was all she could do at this point.

"I'll do no such thing until you tell me where we are," said Vegeta, arms locked tightly around his chest, or as tight as they could. His shirt was delicate, and chafing. Humans had no fashion sense, not to mention their clothes were some of the most uncomfortable that have ever been his misfortune to wear. He wouldn't even have to power up to Super Saiyan to obliterate this lame excuse for a shirt. It was too white for him, and it buttoned up the front, which was a concept he was still trying to get used to. At least it wasn't pink. "What's going on, Bulma? What's this got to do with Trunks?"

"You wouldn't understand. This is all your fault to begin with," said Bulma, preparing to land. The craft was about three minutes away from the roof at the speed she was going. "But if you must know, Trunks beat up a bunch of kids at school."

"So what? He's a Saiyan. He'd be a disgrace if he couldn't take on a few Earthlings."

Bulma smacked her face into her palm and shook her head. She knew he'd say that, and she just didn't want to hear it. All she wanted him to do was to sit there quietly and, you know, be proof that Trunks lived in a stable home with two loving parents, so Kami help them if they blamed Trunks's actions on poor home environment. The Brief family may have been a little crazy, but they were warm and loving all the same.

"I don't know what planet you're still living on, dear, but this is Earth. Kids beating each other up in school is considered a bad thing, got it?"

Vegeta just kind of gave her this look, the kind he'd give to finding something gross under his shoe. Geez, on Earth she was crazy because of her family, and her husband found her crazy because Kami forbid she follow basic Earth customs, despite the fact that she was an Earthling. Somebody better see the beautiful, genius woman that she just so happened to be today, or so help her she'd blow a fuse. She was already ready to blow as it was.

"Listen, just don't talk unless spoken to, and try not to look so angry," said Bulma, just before landing on the roof. Vegeta didn't have a response for that, so he just went along with it. In these kinds of situations, just going along with it was the most prudent choice. He had caused uproars before, some of which made Bulma cry. Guys like him, no matter which planet they were born on, couldn't deal with a crying woman they lo... hate-in-the-least. Tears never turned him to mush before he met Bulma. It was an unfair advantage she had over him.

The two of them got off of the plane, and were greeted by two security guards. This place was no trash heap of a school. In fact, it was the same one Bulma had gone to when she was just a girl. It brought back so many fond memories, of her winning at so many math and science competitions, and even a beauty pageant. She didn't like having tons of cheap make-up hiding her natural beauty, so she gave up that lifestyle to pursue one in science and adventure. Good thing she did, or else she would have never gone hunting for the dragon balls.

As the pair descended down the stairs, Bulma's worry for Vegeta's behavior increased. She'd never been a stickler for the perfect family image, at least not the way ChiChi was. She couldn't, however, stand to hear that her boy had done anything wrong. She knew he got picked on for having purple hair and a funny name, but she thought he knew better than to go this far. She'd ground him for a month for every charge pressed against them. The Briefs could afford to buy and sink their own land, but they weren't like that. They were a crazy, but peaceful bunch. That was, until she decided to marry a Saiyan. The evil things love can do to a girl.

"This is it," said Bulma, pointing toward the office door at the end of the hall. She fixed the collar of Vegeta's shirt and buttoned the last button, which bought her one mean scowl. He looked like enough of a bum, not being able to run a comb through his hair if his life depended on it. The least he could do was button up. "Remember, try to be good."

"Sure mother, whatever you desire," said Vegeta, getting beyond irritated with her at this point. Next order she barked at him he'd take a jab at one of the nearest walls in the building and watch it crumble before his feet. The shocked look on the faces of the humans was always a gas.

The two of them entered the office door when bade welcome. The principal was a roly-poly man with critical eyes and a beard that looked as though a five year old had penciled it on. Bulma tried not to laugh when his eyes met Vegeta's. She could practically taste the sweat beading on the principal's wide, bald head already. That was normal when it came to her husband, though. He scared everyone.

Principal Ken Shoryu shuffled a few papers and cleared his throat just as Bulma and Vegeta had a seat. "I'm glad you could make it Mrs. Brief, and… Vegetable?"

"Vegeta!" The Saiyan barked out, startling the fat man like nobody's business. Bulma pinched the bridge of her nose with a prayer on her tongue. She knew this probably wasn't going to end well, but did it have to start out bad, too?

"Oh, yes, yes. Pardon me, sir. Of course, Vegeta. Must be an exotic foreign name. Very nice. I might just name my next son that…"

"You're not worthy of even a slum Saiyan's name, let alone an elite's!" said Vegeta, now standing and towering over the principal's desk. Bulma wouldn't be surprised if that sudden funny smell came from that poor man soiling himself. Why did Vegeta always have to be such a brute? It was so embarrassing.

"Honey, sit down," said Bulma.

"No! He dared to-"

"SIT! Ass. Chair. NOW." She yanked him backward and tossed him into the chair. The only reason why he didn't resist was because he could easily break every bone in her body with one finger, and he would never be able to figure out why he couldn't bring himself to do just that.

It took a minute for the poor principal to dab all the sweat off his bald head, but it seemed he was willing to start this over again. Unfortunately, he now figured out where Trunks got his little temper from. It certainly wasn't a Brief trait, damn Saiyans and all their space pirating, and spandex. Vegeta looked great in tight pants actually. She wished that were the style on Earth.

My, now was not the time to get horny. There was a very serious matter concerning their son, and they had to see it through to the end. Then she could think about tight, hot buns in tight hot pants, yes.

"Now, Mrs. Brief, Mr. … Vegeta, I'm sure you know why you're here today, do you not?"

"No, I don't," said Vegeta, obviously having tossed her plea for him to behave out the window. This was one of those many moments in her life where she asked, what in the world did she do to deserve this? Or better yet, why in the world didn't she bring Yamcha along instead and have him pose as the husband? Why couldn't Vegeta see that this was important to her?

"Mr. Vegeta, surely you've been informed that Trunks has injured no less than seven students in the cafeteria Monday afternoon. He claimed they were calling him names, what was it, "grape top" and "fruit of the loom"? Yes, and that it had been going on for quite some time. He was in tears, I felt sorry for him," said Principal Shoryu, proceeding to rub his sloppy beard. "He had such an excellent track record before this incident, staying behind and extra few minutes to help out his teachers, scoring high on tests, always winning Student of the Month in something. It's always his kind that goes bad first unfortunately."

"Trunks certainly did not go bad!" said Bulma, She caught herself shouting right there and cleared her throat with a small blush. "I mean, what he did was bad, and he will be punished. There's no need to suggest that this will be a chronic problem, though."

"I'm afraid that's what all parents say, Mrs. Brief. This is only the beginning of treacheries he's capable of. Why, your son is so emotionally distraught that he may be liable to handicap, or even kill his next bully in the future. I advise you to remove all firearms from your home and get him into therapy at once."

"ENOUGH!" said Vegeta. The palms of his hand's slammed hard enough against the principal's desktop to embed one disturbing, long crack. His eyes were burning with fury as he stared fat little Mr. Shoryu down, who looked as though he were in the middle of having a fatal heart attack. Their faces were inches apart when Vegeta proceeded to speak his mind, and Bulma couldn't say she blamed him. She knew how he felt. "Listen, you sloppy ball of lard! How dare you attempt to disgrace Trunks with this worthless drivel? My son is not emotionally distraught, and he certainly doesn't need therapy! Those punks deserved whatever beating he gave them."

"Vegeta, that's enough," said Bulma, now knowing that she would have to end this the quick and easy way, as opposed to the ethical way. Trunks was going to get expelled at this rate. It was time to get out of there and fast.

Bulma pulled a check out of her pocket, scribbled down a generous amount of numbers, and dangled it before the principal's eyes. "Listen, I didn't want to have to do this, but I have no choice." He took one look at the check and his brows shot all the way to the moon. Why, with this much they could bring back all of the sports, and even a few foreign ones, such as martial arts. It was about time they could afford programs that encouraged discipline.

Mr. Shoryu was a bit hesitant at first, but one last glance into Vegeta's angry eyes completely sealed the deal. Before he could snag the check from Bulma, she pulled it up and away. "Nope, not yet. I want to see Trunks' record cleared of this incident. If the parents wish to pick a fight, send 'em straight to Capsule Corp. and let me deal with them. Trunks won't go unpunished, but I won't allow him to be denied a great academic future just because of a little slip up."

Mr. Shoryu sighed. "I certainly disagree with you, Mrs. Brief." He took one last look at Vegeta and quivered. "But my feelings on the matter are entirely irrelevant." He fake-coughed and cleared his throat. "The check?"

"Nah-ah-ah! The record?"

This was why Bulma was the greatest, most beautiful business woman in the world. She was a master of negotiation, not to mention charm, smarts, and all the other right stuff. OK, so maybe Vegeta being the world's most brutal-looking, scary freak kind of helped, but that made her all the more impressive. After all, he (sometimes) listened to her.

"That was a complete disaster, Vegeta!" said Bulma, flying the plane so fast that it looked as though they were traveling through dimensions. She was very upset with the outcome of today's meeting, not so much because Vegeta was a jerk, but who did that principal think he was anyway? Nobody exploits her little boy and gets away with it! She would soon make arrangements to have him transferred to a different school, but would that improve things at all? At least the kids at his current school knew that bullies didn't stand a chance against him, but what if they picked on him elsewhere? Being a good mom was really hard. No wonder ChiChi freaked out over Gohan a lot.

Speaking of which, she brought the plane down to a crawling speed and turned toward Vegeta. She may have known the justice in his anger toward Mr. Shoryu, but now the man knew where Trunks got his temper from. Oh well, she supposed bad parenting on the father's behalf was a little better than Trunks needing therapy, but she still didn't like it. Vegeta loved Trunks, he just sucked at expressing it in a conventional, Earthly way. It wasn't his fault.

She still couldn't stand to be around him at the moment, especially when she was so upset she could take down a mountain. "Vegeta, think you can fly home from here? I want to be alone."

He gave her a questioning look, but decided it was best not to ask. He could see the waterworks coming, and the last thing he wanted was to be around for them.

"Fly high so you don't crash into anything," said Vegeta, and with that he opened up the plane's hatch and left. That actually made her smile, him showing even the slightest concern for her safety. This small, happy feeling that floated in the sea of dismay that she felt lasted all the way to her destination, which wasn't horribly far off. She landed her plane several yards in back of ChiChi's house and capsulated it. Now that she was there, she could feel the tears welling in her eyes.

"What in the world is all that noise?" said ChiChi, throwing open the back door with a drying towel in her hands. "Bulma? What an unexpected surprise! What… what's wrong, dear?"

With that, Bulma collapsed to the ground and sobbed her eyes out. "I'm such a bad mother. What do I do, ChiChi!?"

That caught ChiChi by surprise more than, well, life was full of surprises when one was married to Son Goku; this kind of surprise, though, was the kind ChiChi felt some empathy for. Allowing her son to go off into space and fight an even alien tyrant was not something that would win her mother-of-the-year. She did raise two happy, healthy boys who were very sweet, though. She thought Bulma was doing the same. What on Earth could the problem be?

"There, there, Bulma," said ChiChi, patting the older woman on the back. She then smiled and gave her a one-armed hug. "Being a good mother is a hard job. Almost as hard as saving the world."

"You can say that again," said Bulma, sniffling, then sobbing into ChiChi's shoulder. That's it, just let it all out. Not that ChiChi had many shoulders to cry on while Goku was out doing something crazy, and Gohan was neglecting his studies. That was OK, though. Bulma was more than welcome to a luxury she lacked. That's just how nice she was. She was even getting mascara all over her good apron, but that was only a mark of good friendship.

"Come on, let's go inside. I've got a chocolate cake in the window that's ready to be frosted and eaten, and was just about to brew some tea. I think you've earned it."

"Thank you," said Bulma. Normally she would avoid food like the plague when upset, seeing as she needed to keep her wonderful figure. A large slice of chocolate cake didn't seem like such a bad idea in this case, though. She had such a rough day, and deserved something to cheer her up.

"He WHAT!? Oh, not your sweet little Trunks. He couldn't have," said ChiChi, not believing a word of what she heard. Well, OK, she believed that bit about Vegeta being a jerk to the principal, and frankly ChiChi couldn't blame him for his rage. After all, ChiChi had (literally) thrown men out of her home for daring to imply that her little boy was a victim of bad parenting. ChiChi put her entire heart and soul into being a good mother, and sometimes even overdid it. Her boys were worth it, though. She wanted nothing but the best for them.

But the Trunks she knew wasn't an embodiment of uncontrollable rage. If he was then she wouldn't welcome him within two-hundred miles of her wonderful little Goten. He had very good manners when he was around, and he had such beautiful hair. If he were a girl, ChiChi would have loved to braid it and play with it just a little bit. How was such a nice boy capable of so much damage? It had to have been that horrible Vegeta, but she didn't say anything because she assumed that Bulma thought the same.

"But he did, ChiChi. He can sometimes be a sarcastic punk, but not unreasonably so. He has never given me a reason to punish him, but I can't let this go unpunished. What should I do?"

If you told Bulma she would be asking crazy old ChiChi for advice on good mothering seven years ago, she would have laughed. Everyone thought ChiChi had a few screws loose when it came to raising a successful family, but now Bulma couldn't disagree more. Gohan was a wonderful young man now, and Goten was pretty much the Son version of Trunks, a little punk, but a sweetheart nonetheless. Despite that Trunks went and let his temper get the better of him, but perhaps the worst part of all was that Vegeta saw no problem with his actions. Punish Trunks for fighting? Vegeta was the last father in the universe that would grace that concept with a thought.

"This calls for some hard discipline! Have you tried yelling at him yet?"

Bulma blinked, toppled over, and her high heal twitched in the air. That was easy for ChiChi to say! Unless the fate of the world was at hand (and sometimes even then) she could submit Gohan to weeks worth of studies just by screeching at him. ChiChi was one scary woman. There was something in her voice and temper that made even Goku's knees turn to jelly. Yeah, he preached justice in the face of fierce foes like Frieza and Cell, but try one of those world famous save-the-world speeches on an angry ChiChi and she'd go ape worse than a Saiyan on a planet with eight moons. It was enough to make even Vegeta shake in his boots.

to be continued…


End file.
